


5 times food somehow played a role in Steve and Bucky's life (and the one time it played one in everybody else's)

by Gaia_bing



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Body Worship, Brainwashing, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Food, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Romance, Wedding Fluff, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-09 08:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11100897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaia_bing/pseuds/Gaia_bing
Summary: So long as you have food in your mouth, you have solved all questions for the time being.-Franz Kafka





	1. Rasperry and Blueberry Pie

**Author's Note:**

> So a new thing by yours truly! 'Thought I'd mix two things that I love: Food and Stucky. Hope you guys enjoy what I came up with! :)

_Brooklyn, 1930._

  
_"Now, what you wanna do here is to fill up that cup up to that mark over here, where it says 3/4 and put it into that bowl over there, along with the other ingredients."_

  
_"Yes, 'mam."_

  
_"Alright and I better not see you try to get more sugar into that bowl than you're supposed to, because I'll be watching you, even when you think I'm not. Are we clear on that, James?"_

  
_"Yes, 'mam. Absolutely 'mam."_

  
_"And please, stop with the whole "mam" business, why don't you? A friend of my Steven is a friend of mine. Just call me Sarah, alright?"_

  
_"Yes, mam...I mean, Sarah."_

  
_"Good. Now, back to the bowl..."_

  
*********************

  
_Six years later..._

  
James Buchanan Barnes, called "Bucky" by the ones that were close to him, enters the living-room of the tiny, one bedroom apartment that he and his best friend, Steve Rogers, shared ever since the latter's mother had untimely passed away from cancer only a year earlier.

  
Speaking of which...

  
"Buck, what's taking so long? I've been sitting here with my eyes closed for like five minutes and nothing's happening!" Steve almost whines from his spot on their raggedy couch, making the other young man chuckles.

  
"Alright, alright. Don't put your panties up in a bunch." he says with a smile.

  
He sits on the couch next to the small blonde and put what he'd been holding in his hands right into his friend's lap.

  
"Now...open your eyes."

  
Bucky smiles in anticipation as Steve finally opens his eyes and sees what he's been slaving over their small gas-stove for hours on end for.

  
He waits...

  
And waits...

  
And waits...

  
Still no reaction whatsoever from Steve, who's simply staring at the raspberry and blueberry pie that is resting on the top of his thin legs, the same one that...

  
"That's just like the one my mom used to make." Steve finally says.

  
"Well yeah, 'cause she's the one that taught me how to do it." Bucky responds and after a moment of uncomfortable silence, he adds quickly: "It's just that, with today being the one year-anniversary of when she left, I thought it'd be nice to have something that reminded you of the good times you spent with her, you know. But, if it's all too much for you, I can just throw it away and-"

  
He cannot finish his sentence because the air left his lungs with how tight Steve is now holding him.

  
"Thank you." he hears Steve whisper.

  
Bucky hugs him right back.

  
"You're welcome." he responds with a smile.

  
A few minutes of hugging passes.

  
"Buck?" Steve finally says in a small voice.

  
"Yeah?" Bucky asks.

  
"Can you...can you teach me how to do my mom's raspberry and blueberry pie?"

  
Bucky smiles and gets up from the couch and indicates for Steve to follow him to the kitchen, smiling as he does so.

  
"Sure I can, along with the other stuff I learned from her and the cookbooks that I bought."


	2. Peeled potato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then the red and the white and the blue'll come through.  
> When Captain America throws his mighty shield...

_Somewhere in the Alps, 1944._

  
Captain America was the symbol of virtue and righteousness.

  
Captain America was as strong as the shield that he proudly carried and as fast as the bullets that he dodged.

  
Captain America never flinched when someone threw a punch, never bled when someone fired a gun.

  
Captain America never broke down, never stumbled, never stopped moving.

  
Captain America could save everyone, would save everyone.

 

The whole world meant everything to him.

 

Captain America could have saved his best friend, would have saved his best friend.

 

Captain America would have told his best friend everything, even his deepest feelings.

 

Captain America certainly never, **ever** would have cried at the sight of a piece of peeled potato.

 

Because it was just food...

 

And nothing else.

 

  
But Steve Rogers wasn't any of those things.

  
Steve Rogers had swore, had even smoked one time in fifth grade. Just to try.

  
Steve Rogers still had to catch his breath after a too long run and staggered back sometimes when something hit him too hard.

  
Steve Rogers had flinched, had even bled.

  
And he'd broke down, stumbled and stopped moving.

  
He hadn't saved everyone.

  
He could never save everyone.

  
Because he hadn't saved his best friend,

  
Couldn't save his best friend.

  
The one person that meant the whole world to him.

  
The one that he...that he...that he'd never...that'd he never told that he...

  
And yes, Steve Rogers **did** in fact cry at the sight of a piece of peeled potato.

 

Not because of the particular piece of food,

 

But because of who he knew had worked on it before leaving for that fateful train trip along with him.

 

So, all in all, was Steve Rogers even fit to be Captain America?

Holding the small piece of vegetable in his hands, alone in the darkness, small droplets running down his cheeks and on the wooden floor underneath him,

And mourning what had happened, what what could have been and everything else in between,

Steve Rogers, to tell you the truth...

Couldn't have given more of a _flying shit_ at this particular moment.


	3. Risotto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, Soldat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my first time going into Winter Soldier format. Please don't be too harsh on me...:(

_Sicily, 1995._

  
...добросердечный

  
...возвращение

  
...на родину

  
...Один

  
...грузовой вагон

  
"Good morning, Soldat."

  
"Ready to comply."

  
*********************

  
Mission target:

  
_-Ronin Angelo_  
_-Italian Dignitary_  
_-Age 46, 100kg, brown eyes, 5 feet 6._

  
Mission objective:

  
_-Eliminate target, leave no witnesses behind._

  
Mission accepted.

  
*********************

  
Target seen going inside building along with a female.

  
Follow them inside?

  
No, too many people.

  
Stay on roof until fellow operatives give green light.

  
Someone inside ear says target is going behind building with female for cigarette.

  
Time to strike.

  
Target spotted.

  
Sliding down roof to where target is standing with female and talking.

  
Standing behind target and witness now.

  
Raising knife...

  
_"Oh, darling, the risotto in here is so nice!"_

  
Ris-o-tto?

  
Risotto?

  
What is...Risotto?

  
"Oh yes, it is very nice."

  
Target takes female's hand.

  
_"But I have to say, the company that I have with me tonight is even better."_

  
_"Oh, darling!"_ the female squeals.

  
The Soldat hesitates.

  
Com-pa-ny?

  
What is _company_?

  
Company and Risotto?

  
Risotto....making Risotto...

  
Company...

  
Making Risotto with company...

  
Sharing Risotto with company...

  
Company...

  
S-

  
St-

  
Ste-

  
_*Bang*_

  
Target and witness are eliminated by bullet from the air thanks to fellow operative, instead of by knife from the ground.

 

The Soldat swallows...

  
He's in much, **much** trouble. 

 

And after the much, much trouble he ended up having,

  
Right back in the freezer he went.

  
Try again another time, the HYDRA agents tell themselves as they close the heavy-steeled door behind them, leaving one of the many Winter Soldiers in his icy slumber...

Like the pieces of meat that they all are.

  
  



	4. Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the memory books, before the Civil War, there was this...

_Romania, 2015._

  
In the busy streets of Bucharest, a man with long hair, gloved hands and haunted eyes was walking.

  
He'd been doing his best to be unrecognized by anyone.

  
He knew people were looking for him, he knew they maybe were even after him...

  
And so he walked, trying to decide which kind of pizza he's going to eat tonight...

  
He stopped in the middle of the pavement and frowned.

  
Pizza's the only thing he'd been eating, beside maybe some cereal here and there, for the past six weeks or so.

  
Ever since the Potomac Incident.

  
Where he...

  
When he...

  
He shook his head, trying refocus his thoughts.

  
Food, right.

  
He looked to his left, the small street-market grabbing his attention.

  
He resolved himself, turned his feet and resumed walking.

  
 _Fuck pizza_ , he thought to himself.

  
_I'm going to cook myself something tonight._

  
**********************

  
Easier said than done, it turned out to be.

  
He'd bought a few things:

  
-Carrots  
-Cabbage  
-Cauliflower  
-Some other stuff he didn't remember the names of.

  
Maybe he could get some soup going with this.

  
This might put some vitamins back into his body.

  
But, see, the thing was...

  
He couldn't boil those vegetables whole, they wouldn't all fit in the small cauldron that'd he'd just filled with water and put on his gas-working stove.

  
He needed to cut them down into pieces somehow...

  
With his bare hands...

  
...or with a knife.

  
He hadn't used a knife or his bare-hands to do anything before in his life...

  
Except for when it came to killing people.

  
And he'd promised himself he wouldn't harm another human being ever again.

  
Would he go back to being a mindless puppet if he used one of these methods again?

  
Well, only one way to find out...

  
Slowly, almost dreadfully, he pulled out one of the many, **many** knives he'd kept (i.e. stolen) when he'd run away from everything and everyone and as slowly, he walked back toward his stove.

  
 _Well_ , he thought to himself, _here goes nothing_.

  
And...

  
Chop.

  
He stilled himself.

  
...his head was still clear.

  
So far, so good.

  
He tried once again.

  
Chop.

  
Chop.

  
Chop.

  
Chop, chop,

  
Chop, chop, chop,

  
Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chop chopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchop....

  
He threw the knife on the floor and staggered back, breathing deeply.

  
_What the hell?_

  
Why...

  
Why had this been so easy?

  
Had he...

  
Had he done this before?

  
And why...

  
Why had cutting a couple of dumb vegetables...

  
Made him feel so _happy_?

  
He closed his eyes as he tried to regain his composure,

  
Trying to separate the once again scrambled information that he'd gathered about himself:

  
His name was James Buchanan Barnes.

He'd been part of what people had called "The Howling Commandos".

He somehow had died in 1944 even though it was now 2015 and here he still was, alive and kicking.

He'd been called the "Winter Soldier".

He was on the run from just about everything and everyone.

  
And now, this brand new piece of information:

  
Chopping food made him happy.

Making food made him happy.

  
But... _why_?

  
He suddenly saw someone in the back of his eyelids.

  
Someone... small and then somehow... big,

  
Blonde...

  
Like the man on the bridge,

  
The one on the Potomac.

  
 _Steve_ , like the museum had called him...

  
... _Steve_ , like he remembered....

  
That smiled and laughed with him as the two of them were covered in flour and other ingredients,

  
Chopping things,

  
Mixing things together,

  
Frying things,

  
Eating things,

  
Being happy.

  
Hell, he'd even thought of becoming a chef one day making food made him so happy...

  
But, that had been **before**...

  
Before the war,

  
Before the fall,

  
Before...

  
Everything else that had happened to him and because of him.

  
He opened his eyes, back to the harsh reality surrounding him.

  
He found himself sniffling and he felt something running down his cheeks.

  
He ran his fleshy fingers over one of them.

  
Was he...was he _crying_?

  
He wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath.

  
He had been happy once, hadn't he?

  
He had loved someone as a best friend, but as more in secret once, hadn't he?

  
He laid his head against the cracked dry wall behind him and closed his eyes once more.

  
But now...now no one would ever love him again, right?

  
And he could never tell them that he loved them back, right?

  
Not after everything he'd done and all those people he'd killed, right?

  
He...he would never be happy as long as he was alive...

  
_Right?_

  
_Fuck soup_ , he thought to himself as Bucky Barnes sniffled once more.

  
_I'm getting myself a pizza tonight._


	5. Each other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are understood, things get a bit saucy...

_Wakanda, 2018._

  
_"And this part?"_

  
_"Hmm...Vanilla Ice-cream."_

  
_"Oh really?"_

  
_"Yes, really."_

  
The cure had worked.

  
The words were gone.

  
The sleep had been lifted.

  
Bucky had been tearful.

  
Steve had been happy.

  
Hugs had been exchanged.

  
And then lasted...

  
A bit too long.

_"Steve?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"What's going on?"_

  
Heads had retreated,

_"Huh, well..."_

_"You don't know either, do you?"_

  
Looks had been given. Words came out at the same time.

_"It's just that..."_

_"There's something..."_

  
And then, at long last, smiles had appeared. Things couldn't be simpler.

_"I've loved you my whole life."_

_"I've loved you since I don't even know when."_

 

Mouths had finally met.

_"Finally."_

_"You can say that again."_

  
This is how they'd found themselves, hours later, each laying there, after getting bare and together for the very first time, on top of a small bunker bed and entangled in sheets, participating in what was quickly becoming their favorite activities:

  
_"What does the other's different body parts taste like?"_

  
And so far, the tally had been:

  
-Bucky's Neck: **Chocolate Mousse** ,  
-Steve's shoulders: **Aged Red Wine** ,  
-Bucky's right human arm (and to his surprise and delight, his left metal one): **Perfectly Grilled Steak** ,  
-Steve's lower back: **Toffee Apple from Coney Island**.

And so on and so forth.

  
"Alright, how about this bad boy?" Bucky asked as he wiggled the front of his right foot right in front of his...

  
Friend? Best friend? Lover? Boyfriend?

  
Who knew...they could decide all of this later...

  
Steve smiled wickedly as he grabbed the waving appendage between his two hands and answered in a husky voice:

  
"Well, let's see here..."

  
He ran his tongue almost obscenely against the length of the brown-haired man's heel, making Bucky's eyes almost pop right out of his head.

  
Steve laughed at the other man's reaction and, taking another side swap over the side of Bucky's ankle, he answered after a few seconds of thinking about it:

  
"...Strawberry Short Cake."

  
Bucky blinked, his previous boner somehow fading.

  
"It does not!"

  
"It does too!"

  
"My feel doesn't taste like Strawberry Short Cake!"

  
"Yes, it does!"

  
"Oh, come on!"

  
"Well, if you're not convinced, how about you lick mine and see what it taste like?"

  
"Alright...oh god, you're right, feel do taste like Strawberry Short Cakes!"

  
"See, I was right! Point goes to Stevie-boy right here!"

  
"Oh, just come here!"

  
Steve literally giggled when his (whatever he wanted to be called) pulled the blond man underneath him.

  
"But do you know what my favorite taste in the whole wide world is?" Bucky asked as he laid his chin against the taller man's chest.

  
Steve smiled tenderly and replied: "No, what?"

  
And it was now Bucky's turn to have a gentle grin, as his head reached upwards and, for what seemingly forever, let their lips and tongues mingle together and things get heated up once again.

But before things got any further...

 

_"...you know I meant "You" when I kissed you just now, right?"_

_"And you know I agreed and returned the feeling when I kissed you right back, right?"_

_"Oh yeah, totally did."_

_"Me too."_

 

And further things went.


	6. Wedding cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And a little more fluff on top of it all. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go people, a small but fitting finale. 
> 
> I can't thank you guys enough for the response this piece of work has received. It really warmed my heart, just like I hope this fanfic has/will warm your own. :)

_Brooklyn once again, sometime in the near future._

  
"Rogers! Barnes! Or should we say Rogers-Barnes, or Barnes-Rogers now? You know I'm not really sure..."

  
"Oh, come on, Tony! Let them have a moment of alone time, please? It's been quite the day for all of us and especially for them."

  
"Yeah, I know that, Bruce. I'm the one that organized this whole shindig as a way to apologize for what happened the last time me and the new-newlyweds were together somewhere. And I also know that if they do not get their lousy butts off of each other for just a minute here and get out to the patio right about now, their wedding cake is **GOING TO GET EATEN WITHOUT THEM**!"

  
"Alright, alright, we get it Tony! No need to shout!" Steve sighed as he prepared to disentangle himself from his new husband.

  
 _"Thank you, Steven!"_ he heard Stark say from the outside.

  
"And by the way, you can't eat the cake without us, because **IT'S STANDING RIGHT HERE BEHIND WHERE WE'VE BEEN BUSY MAKING OUT**!" Bucky couldn't help but shout back as he pulled his new husband into his arms once more.

  
"Don't you shout too, dear." Steve admonished him lovingly.

  
Bucky smiled back and replied as tenderly: "Understood, dear."

 

 _"..._ Steve?"

  
"Yeah?"

  
"I love you."

  
"I love you too."

  
"...five more minutes before the cake?"

  
"...five more minutes before the cake. 'Can't wait to see if the guys out there like it."

  
"I'm sure they're going to love it, because after all, we did make it together."

 

And love the cake they all did, because the food itself hadn't been the most important thing...

 

It was with who you made and shared it with that had always mattered the most.


End file.
